by Nana Malone
“I won’t take anything from Legacy Sports. At least, nothing more than the paycheck I earn there. I don’t want to have your company pay for anything, and I don’t want to do any kinds of endorsements for them, either. I want to keep the two things separate.”
“There’ll be plenty of time to figure this all out,” Brent asserted with an understanding nod. “Right now, you two should clean up and head home to get some rest. You’ve still got tomorrow to get through.”
Twenty-Five
After the high of tournament day, came the inevitable crash. Bryce agreed to head home for the night, rather than stay over at her place. She missed him, but there were so many things in their relationship coming to a head, and she needed time to reflect. To figure it out. To have her dream, she might have to go back into debt, and that didn’t sit well.
There were more than a few things they had to work through. They’d been dancing around a few major subjects, and she had to figure out how to proceed. Without him distracting her with blistering hot sex. It was his favorite way to solve an argument or any disagreement. And given their fundamental differences, they spent a lot of time in bed. Or on her couch, or in her shower… Well, there was a lot of sex.
Bryce had mentioned in passing at one point that he had thought about looking for an apartment of his own—spending so much time at Tami’s place and enjoying the freedom of it had him itching to get out of the house. Sure, he had his own entrance, but there were too many people keeping track of his movements.
Tami knew he was putting off looking because he wanted her to move in with him, but he probably wasn’t sure how or when to bring it up. But when she’d mentioned that her lease would be up for renewal in a few months, he hadn’t taken the chance—or maybe he hadn’t realized it was his chance?
Of course, she could have taken that first step and been the one to ask, but she chickened out whenever she thought about it. About what it would mean. She loved him. But he hadn’t said anything about love. So neither had she.
They hadn’t talked much about their future as a couple and what they wanted out of their relationship. Marriage, kids, none of it. She was hyper-aware of taking her pill. And since they stopped using condoms, she’d been hyper-vigilant about tracking her period. So far, it still showed up like clockwork. There was no way she wanted to go back. Especially knowing how delicious it felt to go to sleep with him still inside her, and to wake up with him making love to her.
She knew he was keeping track, too. Every time it was her time of the month, chocolate appeared in her apartment as if by magic. Turned out, his family had long emphasized the importance of contraception as a means of preventing some scheming woman from taking advantage of him, of trapping him with a child to gain access to the family’s money. He’d made it a point more than once to assure her that he in no way thought she was at all like that. But they both understood the unspoken. Getting knocked up would affect her ability to play and enjoy tennis, in both the short and long-term. And given her independence and past with Michael, she never wanted to be there again. When she took her pill every morning, she left the packet on the sink as a silent reminder to him that she’d taken it. It was so fucked up. They should just go back to condoms. Or even better, have a come-to-Jesus meeting and just freaking talk about it all.
So many of all their unanswered questions boiled down to whether she wanted to pursue a career in tennis or not. There was no question that Bryce would be fighting to return to competitive tennis. Whether he was going to be the one competing, or whether he would wind up in some sort of apprenticeship with Dmitri to learn about coaching, or turn to the management side, somehow, he would remain in that competitive world, and it would involve more travel than Tami could afford both financially, and in the time spent traveling when she wouldn’t be working.
If she stayed at her job at the store, she would be staying behind. She didn’t want a long-distance relationship with Bryce, but if it were a choice between that and having any relationship with him, she would take what she could get—but would Bryce choose the same?
His family appeared to be warming to her, but would they still feel the same about her if she refused an athletic career? Did she want to let her desire for their approval dictate her decisions for her own life? She flopped back into bed. No. On that point she was adamant—but at the same time, wasn’t her flat-out resistance to that lifestyle because it was what they wanted for her and resisting was simply a way to assert her sense of independence? She didn’t want to do it to please them, but she didn’t want to not do it just to displease them.
Tami lay alone in bed that night, wondering if Bryce missed having her there with him as much as she missed having him there.
She wanted him; whatever that might mean for her future, she wanted him there.
But setting him aside—just for a moment—what did she want for herself? What would make her happy?
It wasn’t working at the store. She hated the cloud of gossip about her relationship with Bryce that followed in her wake whenever she was at the store, and there was always a thrill whenever she saw her time off had been approved, when she saw her work hours had been scheduled around her practices with Bryce. And she was undoubtedly at her happiest when she was on the court—with or without him.
She could do it—partner with him professionally. She’d be working with her best friend all the time—and though she was sure that the added pressure would alter their relationship, she didn’t think that would entirely be a bad thing. She could learn to deal with whatever media presence and scrutiny came with turning pro—she’d be facing some level of attention if she was with him anyway. She could learn to turn reporters’ questions back on them and avoid sharing details of her life that she needed to keep private. After all, she’d had plenty of practice. It would take adjustments, sacrifices, but she was certain now that Bryce was worth it.
The question of a singles career for herself… Well, that could be decided later. There was still time for that. Maybe she’d love competing and the mixed doubles tournaments wouldn’t be enough; maybe it was something she would fall into naturally.
The details of sponsorship and management, endorsements and contracts, whatever needed to be worked out on the financial side could wait a few more days. Her mind made up, Tami settled down to sleep with an unexpected calm.
Twenty-Six
Tami was on fire. From his position, he didn’t have much to do until he went up to the net. She was on fire and hardly let a ball by. It surprised Bryce how well they played together. They won their match quickly, their opponents suffering under Tami’s assault. After that match, they’d played two others and won.
In the locker room, before he could coax her into a quick kiss, she turned to him and inhaled deeply. He knew her well enough to know to brace himself. “What’s up, baby?”
She licked her lips. “So, I’ve been giving it some thought.”
Fear gripped his heart. He’d pushed too much, and she was abandoning him. Fuck. “Tami, I—”
“I think Dmitri and your parents are right. I’ve been kidding myself. I want this really badly. And I need to loosen my stance on the money thing. I want to go all the way if we can. And if Legacy Sports foots the bill, that’s okay, but I'd rather have other sponsors, if that’s possible.”
His mouth dropped open. This was definitely not what he’d been expecting to hear. “Oh baby, are you serious?” He picked her up and twirled her around. “Are you really serious?”
She laughed, and he was pretty sure that next to her screaming his name as he made her come, he’d never heard anything better.
“Yes, I’m serious. We kicked ass yesterday and today, and it’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. To play…to win with someone I—uh—care about, it’s unbelievable. I want more.”
He held his breath, hoping for an ‘I love you’ but nothing came. It was okay. He could wait.
He took more pleasure than he probably should have, driving he
r to work and pulling right up to the front. As a final fuck you to everyone that had shit to say to her.
They walked in hand in hand, and Tami left him with Amy as she went back to speak to Jim. Her friend beamed at him. “Good for her. I’m happy for you guys.”
He made a mental note to ask Tami what Amy wanted for her future. She’d been a really good friend to her, and he wanted to reward that. He wouldn’t tell Tami that, of course. She would accuse him of knight-in-shining-armoring again.
He took her home, before running a few errands of his own. When he knocked on her door at seven, he held out a single red rose for her to take as he breezed into the apartment.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She set her wineglass down, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him in for a kiss.
“It was nothing,” he told her, trying to shrug it off even as a warm flush swept up his neck. She was really doing this. With him. His hands rested at the small of her back, while hers circled his neck. He could hold her all day, every day. Shit, he had it bad. He was so fucking in love with her he couldn’t think most days. But he didn’t dare tell her.
“No, not just for the rose. For everything. For making it…easier…to take this step. For you taking it with me.” She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against his chest. He held her tighter. All he wanted to do was make her happy. “Trying this—competing again—it isn’t something I ever would have done without you.”
“Sure you would have.” He kept his voice quiet and firm. “You know it’s what your parents wanted for you, and eventually you would have let yourself try it for their sake.”
“I’m glad you’re so sure of that,” she remarked dryly. “’Cause I’m not. But I’m through getting in my own way.”
His mouth twitched into a half-smile as her words sank in. “That’s my girl.” What he didn’t tell her, didn’t dare share, was that without her, he might not be playing again, either. At least, not happily.
He kissed her long and deep, his hands trailing up her back into her hair. Tami dropped the rose and slid her hands down over his chest, reaching for the buttons of his fly. Jesus Christ. It didn’t take much, and he was rock hard.
Bryce pulled back from the kiss, his hands cradling Tami’s face, to ask, “What about dinner? It smells delicious.” His cock throbbed in silent protest.
“It’ll keep,” she said, sliding his pants and boxers down off his hips enough so she could pump the length of him.
Bryce’s breath caught. And he rested his forehead against hers, as she slid her hand along the smooth, hard flesh. He watched as her eyes widened, and she licked her lips. She sank to her knees, and he mouthed a soft curse as he reached for purchase on the wall.
Her breath on his thighs was enough to make him tremble. But when her hot tongue licked him from root to tip, then her mouth delicately wrapped around the head, he was ready to blow. She sucked him deep, his cock hitting the back of her throat, and he fought the desperate urge to come. He tugged her to her feet before she could render him useless. Bryce kissed her roughly, nipping on her lower lip before sliding his tongue deep. Staking a claim. Reaching down, he grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it with a rough jerk, too impatient for her to go gently. His skin buzzed, and he was desperate to have her.
She had to let go of him and raise her hands above her head for her shirt to come off. But the moment he had it off, he quickly crouched so he could bury his face between her breasts, easing her bra straps from her shoulders so her whole bra slipped down around her waist. Her fingers corded through his hair as he sucked, teased, and grazed her nipples. His hands gripped her ass, massaging the flesh through her jeans as he pressed his chest against her hips.
He knelt and kissed lower, over her taut belly. She impatiently tugged his shirt off, allowing her to run her hands over his shoulders. His muscles bunched under her touch. He wanted more, needed more. He wanted her to come on his tongue, his fingers, his cock. He unzipped her jeans and slid them slowly down her trembling legs. She helped him out by removing her bra while stepping out of the tight denim. Too impatient, the moment her jeans were off, he tugged her panties aside and licked her cream. Fuck, why did she taste so good? Everything about her was different. He slipped a finger inside her slick channel as he sucked on her clit. It took mere seconds for her to come.
She sagged in his arms as he stood. “Bedroom,” she whispered. He swept her up, one arm beneath her knees and the other wrapped round her back. Holding onto his neck, she giggled as he waddled to her bedroom, his pants sliding farther down his legs with each shuffling step forward. He could give a fuck about dignity right now.
He lay her down and freed his legs.
He ran a hand up her leg, pulling her knee wide. He wanted to taste her again but he wouldn’t last, and he was so desperate to come inside her.
With a firm grip on his dick, he ran the head of his cock along the length of her slick cleft. So good. Too good. Too perfect. He shuddered as he slid inside her easily. As if she were made just for him. The words he wanted to say stuck on his tongue. He didn’t have his usual control as he set a grueling pace. He wanted her to feel how much he loved her. He slid a thumb over her clit and she groaned low even as she shuddered and pulsed around him.
“I want you,” she panted into his ear, the pitch of her voice slowly rising. “I want… Oh, my God…yes… Bryce.” He didn’t let her come down before he was dragging another one out of her. Fingers on her clit as he sucked on her nipple and fucked her deep.
Their words became gasps, and her next orgasm was more a whimper than a roar. She became boneless beneath him, and he grinned as he kissed her. The bolt of lightning shot through him in a flash, and he shook as he filled her, his body emptying into hers. He could die right here, right now, and not care. Before his brain could come on line his heart took over. “Move in with me. Please. I don’t want to wake up without you.”
Her voice was quiet. “Okay. I was wondering if you’d ever ask.”
Twenty-Seven
Once she’d made the decision to play, everything was so easy. Well, mostly everything. They had missed the entry deadlines for some of the upcoming tournaments and couldn’t qualify for others without having competed in more, but their managers went to work dealing with those details. Dmitri had suggested a manager for her, and within a week she had a coach, a trainer, and a nutritionist.
“Your job is to win,” Dmitri told them. “We train as hard and as long as Bryce’s leg can take it. We are going to do everything on the hard courts for now—we need a long-term goal for you two, and I think the US Open should be that goal.”
“What?” Tami exclaimed. She had agreed to playing professionally, but she hadn’t thought they’d be aiming to get themselves to that level so quickly. “It’s less than six months away,” she objected.
“I’d like it if you could compete internationally a bit going into September, but I don’t think it will work out that way. Most of the hard-court tournaments over the summer are in North America. We’ll have to start out slow—two tournaments a month—and then pick things up as the summer progresses.”
“Australian Open—maybe we can be ready for that—but the US Open?” Tami remained skeptical. “They’ll never let us compete.”
“Sure they will,” Bryce said. “We’ll enter our application and wait and see, but the committees have to work with the television networks and the sports media world, too. They’ll want the story of us being there so badly, they’ll make sure we’re there. These are the times the name comes into play.”
“Our story? What about our talent? Our hard work? Isn’t that what’s supposed to get us there?” Tami argued.
“And it will. You’ll earn it, believe me,” Dmitri assured her. “But we are going to build the buzz around the pair of you so that the two of you competing there overshadows everything else.”
“Are you our coach or our manager?” Bryce joked.
“I must be a
ble to understand both to be effective,” Dmitri shrugged, choosing to ignore Bryce’s attempt at humor. “Now both of you, out on that court. I want you practicing serves and returns across the net at each other—your confidence and comfort with each other will make the rest easier.”
Practice was something Tami could understand. Meeting with sponsors would take some getting used to.
Thankfully, Legacy Sports was not one of the companies backing the Coulter/Ivey team as they began entering tournaments. That didn’t stop Bryce’s family from getting involved in arranging or pushing certain business associates into sponsorship roles, though. It was technically cheating, but Tami could deal with that.
Bryce’s father had hosted a dinner with their sponsors the week before their first official tournament. Tami would have been more comfortable if she and Bryce could have hosted it themselves, but they had only just found an apartment they liked and their frequent practices left little time for cleaning and unpacking following their move.
She even let Bryce buy her a new dress for the occasion, and she was relieved when they arrived at the large Coulter estate and she saw so many vaguely familiar faces—it seemed that she had already met most of her and Bryce’s sponsors at Brent’s birthday party. It was a relief to be able to talk about their upcoming tournament and practice schedules, instead of blushing over the fact that she was not only working retail, but was working for her boyfriend’s family’s store.
“We’ll be arranging things with your managers for some more formal endorsement deals after you’ve won a few of these things, though from what Brent tells me, it won’t be long,” a tall, broad man called Anthony Jacobs—president of a sports drink company—was telling her, as she clung tightly to Bryce’s side. His hand gave her waist a reassuring squeeze. “Is it true you almost competed in the Olympics when you were in high school?”
